One Hundred
by Dormouse8
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for the '100 days, 100 drabbles' challenge at the D/G Forum. Mainly will be D/G, other pairings may appear.
1. New

**A/N: ****written for the D/G Forum challenge, _'100 days, 100 drabbles.' _The drabbles must follow a prompt and be no more than 400 words. **

**Please note, the drabbles will not be betaed, as they are simply drabbles. I apologise for any mistakes in advance.**

**_Disclaimer: _I own nothing of the Harry Potter world.**

**_Reviews appreciated :)_**

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**One Hundred**

**_New_**

As she awoke, she turned and half lay across the male beside her. She smiled, tracing patterns gently on his chest as she thought of the previous days events: Once Ginevra Molly Weasley, the fiery, freckly, Plucky Gryffindor, who would gladly send a bat-bogey hex to any Slytherin who got a bit too lippy, was now Mrs Malfoy, the passionate, strong and beautiful woman, who had captured the heart of a previously hexed Slytherin.

Yes, life certainly was strange.

Sending a kiss to his chest, letting her tousled hair tickle his face, Ginny smiled as she caught a glance of her elegant diamond that now graced her ring finger. She wiggled her finger for a moment, letting the diamond sparkle in the morning sunlight.

"Morning Mrs Malfoy."

Came the voice of her new husband. Ginny turned to face him. His blonde hair was ruffled from sleep and his grey eyes shined as they took in the sight of his newly wedded wife lay across his chest.

"It really happened didn't it?" Ginny asked running her fingers along his defined stomach. Draco didn't reply, instead he placed a hand under his Wife's chin and pulled her forward into a gentle kiss. Draco broke away, before giving one of signature smirks.

"Was that proof enough?"

Ginny smiled and rolled her eyes. "20 hours into the marriage and you've already turned into a smart arse?" Draco laughed a little. "I've always been one, that's why you married me."

Ginny snuggled next to him, turning her head so that their noses almost touched. He wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing Ginny closer to him still.

"Draco, did you honestly ever think we'd get married?"

The blonde didn't reply for a moment, instead he looked down as his wife, taking in each of the features and the contours of her face that had become so familiar to him now. The light dusting of freckles across her nose, and the way she had a slight dimple when she smiled. The way her hair was wild in the mornings and the way her lips were a perfect Cupid's bow. To him, she was all he ever needed, and so he nodded, before kissing her quickly and pulling her into an embrace, as their legs entwined, and their wedding bands shone in the golden rays of the first day of their new life.

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**Prompt: New**

**Word Count: 396**


	2. Broken

_**Broken**_

She kicked off hard from the ground, heading into the sky as the air whooshed around her, making tears stream from her eyes. A whistle faintly blew from somewhere below, signalling the start of the game.

"Ginny!" Somebody called. She swiftly turned her broom, instinctively catching the quaffle that was soaring towards her at lightning speed. Smiling, she crouched low, and whizzed off in the direction of the hoops, dodging and spinning past the emerald opponents who desperately clutched for the quaffle.

Scoring was an easy feat for the redhead. Effortlessly, she tossed the ball into the left hand goalpost before the keeper even realised what had happened. A roar erupted from the Gryffindor stands as they took an early lead much to the dismay of the Slytherins who hissed like serpents as the glorious goal.

Ginny grinned widely, proud she had scored first. It was obvious she was talented at Quidditch. She was often seen as a major threat to the other teams, and was always the target of aimed bludgers. More than once she had taken a bludger to the ribs, causing her to shout profanity in the direction of the beater, but never had she forfeited a match due to injury.

She punched the air in delight as another quaffle soared into the Slytherin goalposts. Suddenly, a green and blond blur raced past her, unsteadying her on her broom. She frowned, ready to hurl abuse at the careless Slytherin.

_Malfoy_. She watched him for a moment, as he stop flying and scanned the skies for a twinkle of gold. His brow furrowed in concentration, those dark eyes, piercing. Then he flicked his head in Ginny's direction, his face breaking into a smirk before he gave her a quick wink and flew off in the direction of the Gryffindor goalposts.

She didn't hear her team mates calling her name. Instead, she sat there, gawping in Malfoy's direction, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"Weasley!"

Ginny snapped back to reality a fraction of a second too late. She turned her head, thinking the quaffle was within reach, when suddenly, a jet black bludger collided with her face. Ginny heard a dull crack as the force of the bludger connected with her nose. Her eyes streamed with the pain, and without warning she fell backwards from her broom, hurtling towards the ground as she clutched her broken nose with both hands.

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**Prompt: Broken**

**Word Count: 400**

**A/N: A bit rushed I feel...**


	3. Hope

_**Hope**_

She rocked on the balls of her feet as she tried to calm the wriggling baby in her arms. Pulling a face, she changed her hair colour from shocking pink to vibrant orange. The baby squealed in delight and soon copied his mother's choice of hair colour. Tonks grinned down at her baby, but the smile on her face was short lived, as she looked out the window and caught sight of the looming moon.

Two months had passed since she'd last set eyes on her husband. Two long, harrowing, painful months without Remus, that caused her sleepless nights and damp eyes.

_"It's just Order business."_ He'd said, when he'd broke the news to her, making it sound like his duty.

_"You don't have to go." _Tonks had weakly replied, her response hollow, as she knew nothing would stop Remus from helping the Order.

So off he went, cavorting with vicious werewolves who were followers of the Dark Lord and a part of Greyback's wolf pack. And here she was, left alone in hiding with their son, hoping she still had a husband alive each full moon.

She snapped from her thoughts and looked down at Teddy. He'd fallen asleep, his hair back to it's usual colour of turquoise. _Does he even know his father?_Tonks thought, her eyes brimming with tears, blurring her vision. She quickly blinked them away as Teddy stirred in her arms.

She cast one last glance out the window at the silver orb that controlled her husband each month. Closing her eyes, she imagined him howling at the moon, animalistic, predatory. Wincing, she turned her back on the window and walked towards Teddy's crib. She gently placed him down, smiling at their son, who gurgled in his sleep.

As long as the moon shone full, Tonks would wait, sitting at the window, waiting till the first rays of morning burst through, granting her slight peace of mind, and the hope that her husband was alright.

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**Prompt: Hope**

**Word Count: 330**

**A/N: I couldn't resist a bit of Tonks/Lupin...**


	4. Quills

_**Quills**_

Furrowing his brow in utter confusion, he looked down at the ridiculous words he had just tried to pass off as work for Snape. "Bloody stupid Peace Draught." He muttered under his breath before crumpling the parchment and throwing it (very dramatically) behind him.

"Honestly Ron, it's not that bad." Hermione replied as she bent to pick up his 7th attempt to please Snape.

"So let me copy" The redhead replied, knowing she'd sooner wrestle the Giant Squid than let anybody copy her work. Hermione rolled her eyes in typical fashion.

Grumbling once more, he set about starting again on his Potions essay. Inhaling deeply, Ron placed the tip of his quill on the parchment, just waiting for the words of a potion's genius to hit him.

"You know, I can't concentrate with you watching over my shoulder Hermione."

She huffed, and no doubt rolled her eyes again at the grumpy Weasley.

Smiling to himself, he set about writing at last, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he crouched low over his work. His now featherless quill, (because he'd pulled out the plume in frustration many months ago,) scratched quickly over the parchment, in only a way that would make Hermione proud.

"There." He announced, the best part of an hour later, stretching back as Hermione flew to his side, scrutinizing his work for any flaws.

"You've spelt dittany wrong." Came her quick reply, as she pointed midway down the parchment. Ron muttered under his breath, making a mental note to give Crookshanks a swift quick the next time he strutted past.

"Other than that, Ronald, it's perfectly fine."

He couldn't help but grin at himself. Everyone knew that Ron didn't flourish at Potions, and that Snape would gladly sneer at his poor essay attempts to please the Slytherins. But just once, he wanted to prove to himself, and mainly _her_, that he was capable of writing something proper.

"Now," Hermione said, snatching him from his thoughts.

"On with that Transfiguration essay McGonagall wants by third lesson."

He sighed, letting his head droop to the table. He could never win, could he?

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**Prompt: Quills**

**Word Count: 338**

**A/N: I'm unsure about this one. I've never delved into Hermione/Ron before, but I sort of imagined this in my sleep deprived state.**


	5. Doorway

**_Doorway_**

Astoria walked into the foyer of Malfoy Manor, her arms heavy with the load of a day's shopping in Diagon Alley. She let out a sigh as she dropped the bags on the ground, knowing a House Elf would sort the shopping later.

She slid of her elegant coat and hung it from the coat rack before heading in the direction of the Lounge. It was around this time that Draco would retire to the Lounge after returning from work, for an hour of peace before the evening meal was served.

Astoria frowned as she heard muffled voices coming from the slightly open door to the Lounge. _Draco hadn't mentioned anything about company, I haven't checked the good crockery is clean, _she thought, leaning an ear close to the doorway.

"Draco... Dra-" came a mystery voice from within.

Astoria didn't hear her husband's reply, only the sound of muted whimpers.

She turned her head slightly, before biting her lip as she thought about what would happen if she was caught eavesdropping into her husband's private affairs. Then, against her better judgement, Astoria leaned her head forward and looked through the doorway.

It felt as if a weight had plummeted into the pit of her stomach.

Mere feet before her, was her husband, naked and entwined with a mystery redhead on the couch, spilling kisses down her neck as she ran her nails down his back, her vivid mane splayed around her like an ignited halo.

And she just stood there. Transfixed on her cheating husband, her mind remembering her mother telling her something extremely important: _Those Malfoy men, always the same. _

After all, it was common knowledge Lucius liked a Mistress or two. But, something inside the naïve blonde told her Draco didn't share his father's wandering eye. How wrong she was.

She felt sick.

The nausea churned in her stomach, as the redhead's moans grew more vocal, as she started calling out Draco's name, before he silenced her, capturing her mouth with his own feverishly.

Astoria stepped back from the doorway, the scene growing blurred as her eye's grew misty. She turned and walked back down the hallway, feeling a sob catch in her throat as she fumbled with the door.

She pulled it open and hurried over the threshold, slamming it closed behind her, the sound not even snapping the frenzied lovers from their intimacy.

She'd lost him.

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**Prompt: Doorway**

**Word Count: 400**

**A/N:I A bit choppy since I had to cut it down a lot. The first draft went way over the limit...**


	6. Breathless

_**Breathless**_

Blood pounded in her ears and her ragged breath ripped at her throat and chest like an angry beast, clawing it's way out of confinement. But she couldn't stop, no matter how much her legs felt like lead, ready to transform to jelly and bring her to the ground, for the life of her she couldn't stop, it was simply a matter of life and death.

But as she risked a sneaky glance behind her, she caught sight of striking blond against the opaque backdrop, his hood having obviously fell due to his intense chase in this game of cat and mouse.

He was gaining on her.

He being the Death Eater burdened with the task of eliminating the troublesome Auror, who had managed to put half of the Dark Lord's followers in Azkaban, precisely the reason she was pegging a close second on Voldemort's most wanted list.

_Run, keep running, _She thought, her mind focused solely on reaching the Apparition point before her relentless assassin caught up with her.

She could just hear him over her heavy panting, his footsteps striking the ground as he was mercilessly gaining on her, his breathing remaining strong and intact, a sound making fear grip her burning chest like no other.

She could see it, the Apparition point disguised as a broken muggle streetlight. It was the most beautiful sight she'd seen in a long time, and she was so close, so, so close but-

His fingers became entangled in her fiery mane as it blew behind her as she ran, the sudden jolt dragging her to the ground. Crumpled in a heap, her breath rasped in her cracked throat. He pulled her from the ground, gripping her small arm with his fingers like a vice, before slamming her against the nearest wall.

Her head flew back, thudding on the solid brick and small pockets of light burst in front of her eyes. Her chest heaved for oxygen as he closed in, pulling his wand from within his cloak, running it the length of her jaw.

He was masked. A simple black mask keeping him hidden, but his telltale flaxen hair ruining his disguise. She gasped once more, her lungs rattling as her throat burned as if she'd swallowed fire, as he raised his wand to her temple.

She closed her eyes.

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**Prompt: Breathless**

**Word Count: 389**


	7. Pain

_**Pain**_

Crucio her? She'd be delighted.

Crucio her again? She be writhing on the floor in pleasure.

Pain was a foreign thing to Bellatrix Lestrange. She wasn't foreign to inflicting it, but experiencing it first hand was a very rare oddity indeed.

Her Master was another who was foreign to pain. _We share many things in common,_ she'd think, gazing at him when his face would be set hard, fingers curled around his wand, aimed at a shaking, screaming, disobedient Death Eater, who couldn't handle the burning of a Crucio.

Sometimes he'd do it out of boredom, or pleasure, as Bella liked to imagine.

Occasionally, she would be called to his private quarters and forced to kneel at his feet. This is when she was most excited. The calm before the storm, so to speak.

_"Crucio."_

The spell hit her like a thousand volts rippling through her chest and radiating throughout her body, coursing through her veins and shivering to the very tips of her fingers, leaving her tingling and panting, always wanting more.

Never would she cry out. Biting down on her lip, eyes clamped tight shut, she refused to utter a sound. Her eyes would burn with the urge to spill tears, and always she'd draw blood, the metallic taste lingering long after she'd been dismissed.

Bella always wondered whether or not he enjoyed it too.

He stopped in front of her, wand limp in his lithe hand.

"You failed me Bella."

She never dared to look up.

_"Crucio."_

He watched her double over as the spell raced through her being, making her shudder and writhe, never once showing signs of protest.

He hit her with another, this time more powerful, angry that she wasn't openly suffering.

Nothing.

Face twisted with rage, he suddenly lashed out, his thin hand sharply striking her face, emitting a sickening crack throughout the deathly silent room.

"Why do you not scream!" he hissed.

Her face was a image of shock. Bella's hand raised, shaking as she clutched her stinging cheek. Her eyes welled, and she hated herself for it, a single tear spilled, giving her away.

It was this, the hand of her Master and not his wand, that caused Bellatrix Lestrange to feel pain like no other. Pain that squeezed at her very soul, causing it to ache as she stared up at the burning hate in her Master's eyes.

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**Prompt: Pain**

**Word Count: 398**

**A/N: I hated having to cut this down, I love a bit of Bella/Voldemort...**


	8. Test

_**Test**_

"Stop sucking your thumb, it will shrink."

The tiny girl sitting on his knee, widened her eyes in shock but kept her thumb firmly in her mouth.

Neville grinned, looking down at his daughter. He reached forward and delicately pinched her nose, making her pull a sodden thumb out of her mouth.

"It really won't shrink, will it Daddy?"

He nodded and she quickly lifted her thumb to her face, checking to see for any signs of shrinkage.

"Is that what happened to your thumb?"

Neville glanced down at his daughter, before lifting his hand up to examine his thumb. He'd forgotten about that a long time ago, and smiled at the memory.

_He was panicking at the thought of his looming apparition test, his stomach turning. He'd already witnessed a splinched foot and a fainting Hufflepuff. _

"_Longbottom, Neville."_

_He swayed on the spot as the contents of his stomach churned. Neville somehow managed to walk forward, his wobbly legs ready to give way at any moment._

"_When you're ready boy." The examiner said, waiting for Neville to take his place. _

_Shaking, he tried to focus his mind. _

_Calm down, remember your training, the voice in his head stuttered, not sounding at all reassuring. He gulped, and closed his eyes. _

_Destination, Determination, Deliberation._

_Neville's chest tightened._

_Destination, Determination, Deliberation._

_His breathing rasped as his head swirled. _

_Destination, Determination, Deliberation, _

_Neville felt as if he was being squeezed through a tube. _

_Pop!_

_He hit the floor with a thud, several feet away, face down and sweating. _

"_Oh well done Laddy!" The examiner squeaked, rushing to help him from the ground. _

_Neville could only mumble, limping back to the castle as the examiner wrote feverishly on his clipboard._

_It wasn't until he'd stumbled through the portrait hole and collapsed into a chair that he realised something was wrong. _

"_Neville, you're bleeding!" Ginny squealed, rushing to his side._

_He could only mumble back, looking to his thumb pumping blood all over himself. _

"_Oh my Merlin!" Ginny shouted, looking about frantically for help._

_Suddenly, roars of laughter came from the other side of the room. _

"_Everyone, we've got a splincher!" Seamus called, slapping his knee. _

_After that, he fainted, waking up in the hospital wing with a shorter left thumb and a apparition license. _

"Daddy?"

Neville smiled at his thumb with the missing tip.

"No honey, the Nargles got that one."

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**Prompt: Test**

**Word Count: 397**

**A/N: I'm not sure about this one...**


	9. Drink

_**Drink**_

"Draco… Draco!"

Draco mumbled as someone called him, waking him from his slumber.

Dragging himself out of bed, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and headed towards the stairs. Peering into the darkness below, he could just make out the form of a slumped figure against the wall.

He rolled his eyes at the sight of his drunken girlfriend looking a little worse for wear.

Heading down the staircase, he made a mental note to put up the wards after 2AM, so that drunken partner's couldn't drag him away from his bed.

"Gin, are you alright?" He asked, crouching low to look at her face.

Her copper hair was a mess, frizzy and matted around her face, her fuzzy eyes framed by smudged makeup and tear stains.

"How the hell did you get home?"

Ginny raised her head, looking him in the eye.

"I don't know... The Lobgins..."

Draco stared down at the redhead, confused.

"What?"

"The Lobgins, Draco, the Lobgins!"

Her voice was raised now, a hint of drunken annoyance among the slurred words.

"Ginny, do you mean Goblins?"

She nodded her head vigorously a lopsided grin plastered on her face. Suddenly she stopped, the motion obviously making her nauseous.

"Why the hell were you with Goblins?"

"They were so lovely Draco, they bought us fire whiskey!"

The blond rolled his eyes, before taking Ginny's hands and helping her to her feet. She stumbled, falling onto the wall for support before giggling at herself much to Draco's annoyance.

"Remind me never to let you go out with Luna again."

Draco frowned, suddenly aware the ditzy girl was nowhere in sight.

"Gin, where's Luna?"

Ginny's eyes suddenly widened, turning glassy. Her whole face scrunched unattractively as she howled, tears spilling down her face.

"I don't know, I don't know!"

Draco placed his hands on her shoulders, trying desperately to calm the screeching banshee standing in the hallway.

"I'm a horrible friend!" She slurred, throwing herself back to the floor. Draco cursed, as he stepped over his blubbering girlfriend, and headed to the backdoor. He took a deep breath before pulling it open.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!"

He was met with the site of a slobbering Blonde, muttering to herself on the step. Cursing loudly, he pulled her in through the door, making another mental note to leave the country next time Ginny felt like having a 'quiet night out.'

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**Prompt: Drink**

**Word Count: 400**

**A/N:A little out of character I feel, and it was cut short alot due to the word limit. **


	10. Anger

_**Anger**_

"Oh for Merlin's sake!"

The redhead was on the warpath, stomping through the Manor, looking for the offender who placed a criminal blue hand print on her immaculate wallpaper.

"Draco!" She shrieked, slamming open the door to the lounge, catching her husband and son looking unusually quiet, bonding over the evening Prophet.

He looked up, guilt in his eyes.

"Yes dear?"

It took her enormous willpower not to strangle him there and then.

"Care to tell me why our little Angel's hand print is currently on show in my parlour, when I specifically left you in charge of watching him for the afternoon?"

Draco gulped after he caught a murderous glint in her eye.

"What hand print darling? We've sat here reading all afternoon."

Ginny looked down at her son, who currently had a painted blue finger jammed up his nose.

"Really? So why does Scorpius look like he's been used as a paintbrush?"

Draco looked down, cursing himself for not cleaning up their son after he decided to splat the wall full of paint, seconds before he heard Ginny walk in the front door.

The blond decided it was best to remain silent, for any form of excuse would surely lead his wife to behead him.

He turned his attention back to the upside down newspaper.

"Well?"

"Surely it's fixed with a simply cleaning spell, Gin?"

Her face turned purple before she exploded.

"That's not the point Draco! You said you could mind Scorpius while I ran a few errands! I should of known not to trust you after last time! When I came home to find him dangling from the chandeliers!"

"I told you Gin, that was his first magic! He got up there all by himself!"

"He was 3 years old Draco, hardly ready for Hogwarts!"

Draco winced at the memory.

Suddenly Scorpius began howling, his face turning scarlet as he kicked his legs wildly.

"Oh my baby!" Ginny cried, rushing to the infant, who she instantly pulled from her husband's lap and coddled to her chest.

Smirking at the distraction, Draco slipped past his seething spouse, and made haste of ridding the evidence pitted against him. As the spell wiped all traces of _'Professor Puddle's Perfectly Poison-free Paint' _from Ginny's wall, Draco noted to pretend the incident never happened, in the hopes Ginny thought she'd dreamt the whole thing up, which of course, was wishful thinking on Draco's part.

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**Prompt: Anger**

**Word Count: 400**

**A/N:I actually hate this one. This is my least favourite of all 10 drabbles I've popped out. Ahwell, 90 to go!**


	11. Dreams

_**Dreams**_

The sound of their daughter's laughter chimed in her ears, as her father picked her up and swung her to his shoulders, before spinning around wildly as she squealed with delight.

Ginny could only smile back at them. A smile so wide it cracked her face, letting the happiness and peacefulness of this moment pour out of her very being.

He was throwing their daughter up high now, as the little girl splayed her arms out like wings, her hair rushing around her the colour of Ginny's, while her eyes shone, the colour of swirling rain clouds, his.

And Ginny laughed along with them, as she lay back on an elbow, placing one hand lazily on her swollen belly, as he looked over at her and grinned, the same grin that made her fall in love all those years ago, the grin that he gave her after he'd said _I do_, the grin he'd given her the moment he held their daughter for the first time.

He came and sat next to her, planting a delicate kiss on her forehead, before resting a hand on her stomach. Together they sat, watching their daughter chase a butterfly before them, her face a picture of childlike innocence, her smile missing a front tooth.

Ginny momentarily closed her eyes as he tenderly kissed her on the cheek, before he returned to their daughter's game. She watched him run towards her, chasing her about as they both shouted and laughed, enjoying every moment of the late summer's afternoon.

And Ginny watched, a smile always upon her face, as they ran further into the distance, running and running, never from her sight. 

_"Mummy."_

Ginny opened an eye, her face stuck to a damp pillow, the outline of a small child next to her bed.

"When is Daddy coming home?"

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**Prompt: Dreams**

**Word Count: 305**

**A/N: I kind of like this one, and left it open for you to decide Draco's fate.**

_Also, the single line break is going haywire, and not letting me separate the story. Stupid FFnet. u_u_


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